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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315169">Distractions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hclmeswatson/pseuds/hclmeswatson'>hclmeswatson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Picard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Disaster Gays, M/M, Syrios, emil is stressed, gays is space, seriously please get the man a coffee, uhhh how do you tag again</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hclmeswatson/pseuds/hclmeswatson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar has overworked himself and Cris has a plan to get him to rest. (Can alternatively be known as the first time they actually confess their love for each other after months of flirting.) Fluff ensues. Tiny bit of angst if you squint. </p><p>Side note: Sylar is not my character. He is a character that was created by my friend @Telas_Selar</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cristòbal Rios/S’vec Sylar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Distractions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Although this meditation upon mortality may soon induce in us a sense of anguish, it fortifies us in the end. Retire, reader, into yourself and imagine a slow dissolution of yourself - the light dimming about you - all things becoming dumb and soundless, enveloping you in silence - the objects that you handle crumbling away between your hands -the ground slipping from under your feet -your very memory vanishing as if in a swoon -everything melting away from you into nothingness and you yourself also melting away -the very consciousness of nothingness, merely as the phantom harbourage of a shadow, not even remaining to you. I have heard it related of a poor harvester who died in a hospital bed, that when the priest went to anoint his hands with the oil of extreme unction, he refused to open his right hand, which clutched a few dirty coins, not considering that very soon neither his hand nor he himself would be his own any more. And so we close and clench, not our hand, but our heart, seeking to clutch the world in it.” The Captain paused in his reading to ponder the meaning of this passage. He often wondered how he would approach his own death. There were several brief moments in time where he thought his life would be taken by using his own hands, however things were different for him now. He still thought that he wouldn’t shy away from death nor would he hold onto the world with all of the energy and strength he had left, if it was his time to go, it was his time to go. There was hardly anything to do but to accept it, otherwise life would be spent fearing death and that is no life at all. Rios switched the legs he had crossed, switching the right out for the left, as he began reading the next passage from the philosophy book. He took a small sip of his strongly brewed coffee before he heard a throat being cleared somewhere in front of him. He set down the mug that was still radiating warmth and looked up, meeting the gaze of an EH. He instantly recognized that it was Emil, the EMH. He bit back a groan as he closed his book, “What have I done to be graced with your presence this afternoon?” Emil was clearly used to this type of behavior as he only gave the man a tight lipped smile that came across as more of a grimace. The EMH looked so stressed that Cris almost felt guilty about being so rude.. Almost. “Actually, Captain, you haven’t done anything that I know of and I would like to keep it that way, however your boyfriend is overworking himself to the extreme. I can’t get him to bloody stop!” This was obviously enough to capture Cris’ full attention. He didn’t even comment on the term Emil used for their relationship. He sighed, “Mierda.” He set his book on the table next to his forgotten coffee and stood. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been trying to help him and I appreciate it. But I’ll take it from here.” The EMH didn’t have to be told twice as he disappeared from sight. Cris shook his head as he walked to the door of his quarters, already contemplating what he would do in an attempt to get Sylar to relax.</p><p>~</p><p>Cris approached the sickbay soon after his conversation with Emil had ended. He took in the sight of Sylar working on some sort of hypospray concoction, no doubt one of his experimental drugs. He couldn’t help the small, fond smile that snaked its way onto his usually serious face. The closer he got to the other, the more he realized that Emil was right. He was slightly paler than usual and he looked dead on his feet. He crossed his arms as he approached Sylar.</p><p> “Hey, mi amor. What are you working on?” He leaned on the table next to Sylar, the Vulcan looked mildly surprised to see him. He immediately attempted to make himself look as put together as usual, however Cris could see right through it. In the time period that he had known the man, he had observed all of his mannerisms and he knew better than Sylar himself when the man had reached his limit. </p><p>“Captain, I was not expecting to see you here, are you hurt?” Leave it to Sylar to be more concerned about him than he was for himself. Cris shook his head, “No, quite the opposite actually. I’m just bored.” </p><p>Sylar tilted his head in confusion, “Bored? How am I supposed to help you with that, sir?” The man put aside what he was working on to provide all of his attention to the Captain. He might not have been expecting his company, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. Rios wasn’t expecting it to be that easy to get Sylar’s attention, he must have been really tired. Something that Cris had already assumed anyway. Despite their blooming relationship, they were both insecure as to the importance of one another in each other’s lives. Cris didn’t quite grasp the fact that Sylar would do anything if it pleased him. </p><p>“Well, I was wondering if you could teach me some Vulcan phrases? I know enough to get by, but I’d like to learn more from you.” He gave the doctor the gentlest of smiles, not realizing that he only wore this expression around him. Sylar hardly felt like he could deny the Captain the opportunity to learn more Vulcan. He found it to be quite wonderful that the man wanted to learn from him. </p><p>“I think I would like that very much, sir.” This response from the Vulcan only caused the man’s smile to broaden. “Great, are you alright with going back to my quarters? I have coffee to finish.” Sylar nodded shakily. His taxed body was ready to give up on him. He and Cris had been through a lot more in the past two days than they had been in the past few months that Sylar had been on the ship. Cris took in the state of the other man and wondered if he could even walk back to his quarters. He definitely understood why Emil was so concerned. He placed his hand on Sylar’s lower back. “Should I carry you?” Sylar’s eyes widened slightly, in what could only be described as surprise. “I should be fine to walk-” His knees suggested otherwise as they buckled beneath him, Rios was quick to react by lifting him up bridal style. </p><p>He raised an eyebrow at the man who was now in his arms, “Should be fine to walk, right?” He couldn’t help but tease the other man and he noticed that it caused a small blush to appear on the other’s cheeks.</p><p>~</p><p>After they both settled cross-legged on Cris’ bed with a cup of coffee, and tea for Sylar, the Vulcan spoke. “What would you like to know, Captain?” He set his tea down on the nightstand beside him, having gotten tired of holding it as Rios contemplated his answer, “I want to know anything you can tell me.” </p><p>Sylar had to think for a moment before coming to the conclusion that he could teach him small, popular Vulcan phrases. “Well, there is ni’droi’ik nar tor, this means I am sorry. If you use it, you are asking for forgiveness.” After stating this, Sylar yawned. Cris noticed this and laid his legs out, he then guided Sylar into laying into his lap, all while speaking, “Ni’droi’ik nar tor?” Sylar did not protest against laying in Cris’ lap, too exhausted to even argue at this point. He listened to Rios’ slightly butchered pronunciation of the phrase, “That was close enough.” It was strange to have someone so close to him that also respected and was interested in his culture. It was pure. </p><p>As Sylar spoke again, Cris began running his fingers gently through his hair. He closed his eyes, comforted by the touch, He purred lightly, similar to a cat, “I have one that you might like.. Bath’paik.” Cris laid his head back on the wall behind him, still running his fingers through Sylar’s hair, “And what does that mean?” He felt utterly relaxed at the moment, it was truly unbelievable how calm the other man’s presence made him. </p><p>Sylar hummed, “It means Damn you.” He still had his eyes shut as his body slowly began to relax, he was equally as comforted by Rios’ presence. The aforementioned man chuckled slightly, “I do like that.. Bath’paik. I’m going to have to use that one.”</p><p>The Vulcan’s mind started to become dazed as he searched for the next phrase, “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.” This one, he meant. He was just saying it outright to Cris. He hadn’t necessarily meant for it to slip out, but it did. It hardly bothered him while he was in this state. </p><p>Cris had heard this one before. It was very important to all Vulcans. It sounded like he was just saying it to him, He swallowed against his dry throat, “And that one?” Sylar hardly registered that he was being asked a question, “It means.. I cherish thee. It is something that a Vulcan would usually say to a bondmate. I am saying it to you because it is true.” Shortly after he spoke, the CMO fell asleep. He really was very catlike. Cris felt his chest fill with warmth at the admission, “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, indeed.” He didn’t notice the other had fallen asleep until he received no response. He looked down at the sleeping man and shook his head fondly. How he had managed to worm his way into the Captain’s scarred heart was unknown to him, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Sylar shifted off of his legs in his sleep and curled into his side. Cris slid down next to him and kissed his forehead, “Te amo, mi amor.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!<br/>P.S. this was written before I even watched Picard-</p></blockquote></div></div>
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